My Thoughts Echo Your Name
by DareToDreamBig
Summary: Katniss Everdeen volunteers as tribute to replace her younger sister. Once she meets Cato, the monstrous boy from District 2, she isn't quite the same, and is unsure about her chance of survival in the arena. Soon, she'll find out there are much worse games to play than the Hunger Games, and the Gamemaker just happens to be her biggest rival.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello. I'm a new HG Fanfiction writer, but I have been reading these for quite a while. I don't care much for any other pairings except for Katniss and Cato. However, I find Finnick and Annie lovely together. **

**This story idea just popped into my head. If any of you have tips for writing Catoniss, they would be appreciated. Just PM me if you want. **

**Constructive Criticism is needed, so I can see what I need to change. **

* * *

_Katniss_

I've never been the type of person who was nervous, or afraid.

Mainly because I hadn't gotten the chance to, considering the fact I live in District 12, a place so poor and full of starvation that sometimes, death is welcomed.

I also have to take care of my sister, and my mother, since my father died in a coal mining accident.

Not uncommon here, for the miners to die.

I miss my father, the only person I can say I look up to.

He's the one who taught me how to hunt, and about the many plants within the forests.

Some people wouldn't understand why a man would encourage his young daughter to illegally hunt, when she could be found and killed.

But it paid off in the long run, when I finally decided to quit letting my sister slowly fade away into only skin and bones.

Well, I did try my best to keep her safe.

And that's the reason why butterflies are flying around in my stomach, and I feel as if I'm going to vomit.

I volunteered for her.

I almost forgot what happened, but all I know was that I heard her name called out and I panicked.

When it comes to keeping my 12-year-old sister safe, I'll do anything.

While on the topic, I'm kind of at a stalemate here.

I provide the food for her, and there's only so much hunting Gale can take alone.

He has a family of five to feed, himself included, and I feel a bit guilty for tacking on two more.

But the vision of Prim starving washes away that guilt.

So not volunteering would ensure her death, but I have extremely low chances of returning to my fellow District _alive. _

Especially since the monstrous boy from District 2 had chosen to volunteer also for the 74th Annual Hunger Games, except for different reasons.

He comes from a Career District, and they train their kids in a special academy for The Hunger Games.

At least, according to Haymitch.

Which is technically against the unspoken rules, but that's what they get for being the Capitol's lapdogs.

I try to block out the shrieks coming from outside this building, where the colorful people of the Capitol reside, waiting for the soon to come days of the Hunger Games.

I wait for them to come too, but only dread feels me, instead of joy and excitement.

Along with being among the smaller tributes, I also have a red target painted across my face.

I, of course, decided to be my stupid self and shoot an arrow at the Gamemakers, who were likely to try and kill me off "accidently".

We all know nothing the Capitol does is an accident.

The other tributes were glaring at me in obvious envy earlier today, for breaking the record of the highest score ever received in the Games.

I guess I'm the only one who understands how dangerous this number is, because Peeta, Haymitch, Cinna, and Effie all congratulated me.

I look at the alarm clock placed on the nightstand beside my bed, and is relieved when I see I have eight hours until I must start preparing to fight to my death.

But I doubt that I'll get to fight much.

I now have one of the greatest chances of dying in the Bloodbath, which Haymitch mentioned briefly as we discussed strategies a couple of nights ago.

I've already decided my biggest competitors are both tributes from Districts one and two, the fox-faced girl from five, who looks sly and untrustworthy, and Thresh, the giant

boy who almost ties with Cato in physical strength, from District 11.

However, from the looks of it, he seems to care a lot about his fellow tribute, Rue.

Her body size and height reminds me so much of my dear sister that I'm even angrier at the Capitol for allowing the tiny girl to be participating in the Death Games.

That's what they are, the Death Games.

No use in pretending.

* * *

I'm awoken at nine, like promised, by Effie.

She has more excitement than she did when Peeta and I were reaped, which is saying something.

I eat a medium sized breakfast, unlike the past few days where I've been tasting all of the rich Capitol foods. Hey, might as well if I'm going to die.

I make sure to eat a lot of protein, but nothing that'll come up later.

Haymitch is reminding Peeta to not start a fire unless if it is really small and not during night, because that guarantees death.

He then proceeds to both remind us to not trust anyone, which I snort at.

I won't have much trouble with that, considering that I barely trust Gale, whom I have known for years.

My mentor gives me a warning glance.

"Katniss, I mean it. Don't trust anyone, not even if they are disarmed or injured. Believe me, sometimes those types of tributes are the most dangerous, because they're going to try to do anything to stay alive, and having no weapons or injuries will encourage them even more to survive." He lectures.

This information is a bit new to me, and makes sense.

If I am injured and create an alliance, it is sure for me to think about Prim and try to kill my ally, so I can be one step closer to home.

He wishes Peeta good luck, and nods at me.

Both of us head towards the elevator.

Once we enter, he begins to speak.

"Now, you need to make sure to find water. Water is your new best friend. Don't you dare step off that pedestal early, before the gong sounds, or it'll blow you sky high. And Katniss, don't go for the bow."

I snap my head up at him, confused, and he explains to me that it'll lead me right into the blood bath.

The elevator stops, and we walk out to the awaiting hovercraft.

Before I head towards that way, he grabs my shoulders.

"Katniss, you can do this." Haymitch reassures me, and I noticed the usual sarcasm dripping from his voice is gone.

He pats me on the back and smiles sadly, but right then and there I realize he isn't just telling me this to make me feel better.

He really believes I can make it out of the arena as a victor, and this makes me a bit more confident.

So I straighten my shoulders, stand up straighter, and walk into the hovercraft.

* * *

I haven't ever been queasy around needles, yet today I find myself feeling this way.

Probably because all of my nerves are torn up, and I again feel the sickness I had felt early this morning, when I laid in bed.

I am placed beside Clove, and once we start to be lifted up into the sky, she smirks at me sadistically, which makes me even more nervous.

Before I had my tracker inserted, I saw Cato staring at me, seemingly in wonder.

This makes me curious, because he definitely has jumped on the "Everybody Kill Katniss" bandwagon.

But the look he had given me included no sense of intimidation or anything of the sort.

I try not to let myself think too much about it, as it is only a small glance my was.

For all I know, he could've been planning my slow and agonizing death, soon to come.

This thought made me shiver and I turn my attention away from him.

* * *

Cinna immediately hugs my trembling form, and this simple gesture makes me feel secure.

He's my only friend at the Capitol, and for me to have at least one person on my side makes me feel grateful.

"If I could bet, I'd bet on you." He eventually says, and then places a coat on the uniform I am wearing.

The coat isn't too heavy, which makes me feel slightly better to know that it won't be totally cold.

Even though the Gamemakers aren't friendly to the tributes, they know that freezing us to death bores the Capitol.

However the outerwear is layered, which is revealed when Cinna pulls the zipper down of the first layer and shows me my Mockingjay pin, and places his finger to his lips.

I honestly forgot about the little thing, but this makes me feel slightly better.

I enter the tube a little bit after hearing the monotone voice countdown from thirty seconds over the intercom.

Cinna nods at me, and I shoot up.

* * *

After getting adjusted to the sun's blare of heat, I look around.

My heart jumps a bit. It's a forest!

The real countdown begins, and it take me a little while to register that my life is going to be on the line in one minute.

I take in the other tributes, who are all focused on the Cornucopia.

I find myself staring longingly at the bow, my weapon of choice and Peeta shakes his head slightly at me.

Why does he care?

Huh, maybe he isn't faking the whole star-crossed lovers act.

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The gong goes off.

Let the games begin.

* * *

**I really tried to focus on keeping Katniss in character for this chapter. Also, the romance isn't going to start until later on. No offense, but too many authors, from what I have read, make Katniss or Cato immediately fall in love with the other within the first glance. That's a bit unrealistic. **

**Don't worry, there will be plot twists. I know I have the 74****th**** Games included, like in the books, but the real drama will start after the Games. I don't want to center too much on this part, because we all know what happens. I already have planned one of the biggest parts of the storyline, but suggestions would be nice. **

**This is sort of a trial run, so if the majority of anyone who does decide to read this doesn't like it, I won't continue. **

**Reviews are wanted. Not because I want you guys to falsely tell me how great of a writer I am, but for tips and pointers. **

**XOXO.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I really appreciate the type of reviews you guys provided me with. Because as much as I love compliments, let's face the fact that there's always room for improvement. But thanks for also not telling me how atrocious my writing is, since that doesn't help much. **

* * *

For a moment, I just stay frozen in my position. Everything's hard to register, because all of the violent commotion. As soon as I realize that I'm just standing near the pedestal, I begin to take off, running as fast as my lanky legs can carry me.

I feel a wave of sadness and fear rake throughout my body when I see Glimmer, the girl tribute from District 1, repeatedly stab a knife in an unknown tribute's ribs. How is their family watching this horrific scene?

An orange backpack becomes visible out of the corner of my eye. That's probably my best bet, to grab a bag and continue running. So I head towards that direction. Of course, me being my stupid old self, I don't even pay attention to the boy making his way near me and attempting to rip the bag out of my possession.

Key word there being attempt. He didn't get far, because a small, but more so sharp knife embeds itself into his flesh, and he lets out a spray of blood onto my cheek.

I look at her in alarm, and she throws another weapon alike the previous one at me. Thankfully, I held the only thing I was able to retrieve in front of my body, so it just catches into the fabric.

After quickly picking myself up, I sprint directly into the woods. All I can hear is the soft pound of my feet on the dry leaves, not even the distant sound of screams.

I feel only the warm breeze blowing through my loose hairs, and the burning in my lungs.

Getting caught up in my own world, again, I don't notice the fox-faced girl from Five in my direct path.

We knock into each other, and I tense up. I almost contemplate killing her, because she has a very cunning performance, and sometimes sly tributes are worse than the injured or weaponless.

She blinks rapidly a few times, and pushes herself back away from me. I decided to spare her, and go off in the opposite direction.

Soon, my fast treks turn into slower ones, because the sounds of the woods are the only things I hear once again.

I relish this type of setting. If only I wasn't fighting to my own death here, I might've actually enjoyed it.

The quietness always allured me into the woods, because that's the person I am.

Silent, on the outside, but I guess I could have what is considered a loud mind. My brain is filled of conflicting emotions that I can never seem to control. I can't decide who I trust, or who I even care for at that matter.

In a way, I suppose I'm a bit bipolar.

Like I really hate when people try to control me, and that's one of the many reasons why I dislike the capitol. Yet, I don't like making all of the decisions.

A lot of people have wanted me to make a decision quickly, but I have to think about how it may affect the people around me.

I shake my head, as if to clear my thoughts, and sit down on a rotted log.

Pulling the backpack in front of me, I begin to sort through the items.

I was pleased with the rope, wire, sleeping bag, iodine, crackers, and the beef strips, but confused at the pair of sunglasses.

However, I was quite disappointed to discover that the water bottle, in fact, contained no water whatsoever.

I don't have my bow with me, but I can survive with the snares that Gale was famous for, and which I had practiced with in the Training Center.

Eventually, I find a stick suitable enough to impale a squirrel with, and set to work, sharpening it with my knife.

Soon, I'm sitting down on another log, eating my cooked meat, but decide to continue my journey when I hear leaves crunch.

Yes, I am being very paranoid, but you would too if you were in my position.

Evening begins to fall, and I find a pretty large tree to settle in. I strap myself in with the rope to prevent my body from falling. I begin to chew on my nails, because of my nervousness and boredom. Even though there isn't much to chew, since I chose to do that when I was in the Capitol, preparing for the arena.

The Capitol anthem begins to sound, and I direct my attention to the "sky". I counted eleven tributes, and I can't help but snicker. How disappointed the Capitol must be, since their precious 74th Hunger Games is going by fast, with almost half of the tributes dead in the first day. I do also keep the fallen tributes' families in mind.

And I let out a sigh of relief, when I see that Peeta, in fact, is still alive.

While I may not return his feelings for me, I do care for him.

Erasing my mind of all thoughts, I lean back against the rough bark and close my eyes.

* * *

I wake up to the smell of fire, and I glance around.

Fortunately, nothing's burning; except for the small fire another person has lit to stay warm.

I shake my head at the tribute's stupidity, and try to fall asleep again.

Stupid people get killed in the Hunger Games. So being near stupid people can increase my chances of getting killed earlier in the arena.

Hopefully, no one will find me, or them, at that matter.

Of course, my wishes weren't received, and I hear the shrieks of a female, begging for mercy.

Soon enough, I hear _them, _stomping through the woods without a care. It seemed as if they tried to crush every leaf and branch in sight.

I could only pray that the Careers weren't smart enough to look up at the trees. My outfit isn't flashy or anything, but most people would probably be able to make out a silhouette. And the District 1 girl possesses a bow and arrow, which I have no clue if she is good at shooting with or not.

Fear disperses throughout my body, and I began to tremble.

Questions begin to pile into my mind. _Will they move on and not notice me? Will they start scouting the area? Will I die? _

Yes, the paranoia is back. This time, even more powerful than usual.

Along with paranoia, is fear.

I can't ever seem to escape it.

* * *

_Cato _

I've never been one to express many emotions.

I guess I was brought up trained to be a hard, cold _monster. _

That word is one I'm usually associated with.

Deep, down inside, I hate it. The front I have to pull up for everyone. And I wish I could have someone to crack it for me.

Believe it or not, my parents didn't want this life for me. They wanted me to just be happy, and they told me I didn't need to do that in the Games.

I wouldn't find happiness in the Games.

That's what my mother said, as she tucked me into bed when I was around eight. She was a victor, and I would always hear her screaming in the middle of the night. She had my dad to comfort her.

Now, they're gone. I don't know what happened to them.

So every day in District 2, I get up at the early hour of five, and eat a protein-filled breakfast, and train until fatigue takes over my body.

I don't attempt to quit this life; I just embrace it.

Well, I try to. I never got into the whole "kill and laugh" thing like most in my district.

But now, there isn't anything I can do.

I've already volunteered for the Hunger Games, and I'm officially a tribute.

Unlike most other tributes, I put on an arrogant face and cross my overly-muscular arms.

These are my thought, scattered throughout my brain, as I walk through the fake forest.

Slightly jumping at any small noise made, I march and yell out, the typical Career stance.

I don't get it; what's the point of hunting if you're going to scare away any sensible person within a ten mile radius.

I could try to get my alliance to quiet, but I have to play the ruthless, bold tribute role, at least until I win.

Yes, not _if _I win, but _until _I win.

Maybe it's bad that I'm conceited, but I think I have more to win than most.

Except for Katniss Everdeen, the girl from Twelve.

She is certainly something, volunteering for something she has low chances at winning.

Yet, I admire her a bit for that. People usually don't have the courage, or selflessness to do that.

And I suppose if I don't win, I want her to. Just so she can get home to her little sister.

Glimmer touches my arm as we come to a stop, and I look down at her.

"We should just kill him," she whispers, referring to Peeta, the puppy-dog-faced tribute from District 12.

"No, he's the best chance we have at finding her," I mutter back.

She just shakes her head at me, and moves along.

The real reason I'm allowing him to be with us is because I know he doesn't have a high probability of surviving long without an ally.

Also, he can keep watch on our supplies. Clove, Glimmer, or Marvel wouldn't be willing to do that, no matter how much I pleaded or commanded.

_This whole leader thing exhausts me. _

* * *

_Katniss_

It seems as my silent cries were answered. They didn't even take a glance up at the trees.

I can't, however, believe Peeta is with them.

In a way, it's the ultimate betrayal. Not that I had an alliance with him, I just thought he had better sense than to go off with the most hostile out of anyone in these games.

Heck, I wonder what Haymitch's opinion on this is.

He most likely is shaking his head, mumbling something about getting another drink. Can't blame him in this scenario.

If Peeta dies by the hands of the Careers, everyone is going to blame our mentor for the casualty, accusing him of making this suggestion.

I sigh, and rest my eyes.

_The Hunger Games has more drama than I have encountered in my lifetime, and I don't know if I can handle it. _

* * *

**So? Thoughts or opinions? **

**I tried to keep Katniss and Cato in character. Katniss seems a bit emotionless because in the books, Suzanne Collins doesn't tell us much of her thoughts. **

**To make up for her lack of feelings, I made Cato slightly more soft than he is usually portrayed as. **

**No worries; I'm not going to begin writing him like he fell in love with our precious heroine at first sight. That just isn't realistic. At least not for his type of character. **

**Peeta? Yes. But not Cato. **

**XOXO,**

**DareToDreamBig**


	3. Chapter 3

**Have I ever mentioned how much I love reviews? Well, I just did, and give yourselves a round of applause, because you gave them to me. Anyway, I'll probably update over winter break a lot, since I get bored during the wait for Christmas. This mainly applies to Christmas Eve, as I get anxious. **

* * *

_Cato _

If I had a choice, I would snap the necks of every person in my alliance. I mean, Marvel's pretty quiet, so he doesn't bother me much. However, Clove keeps on rambling on like an idiot about killing other tributes, Glimmer isn't very useful with the weapon she specifically requested, and Peeta's existence irks me.

On top of all of that, my feet are killing me. The excruciating pain from walking non-stop has taken a toll on my energy. I can't let anyone see my current weakness, since I have a cover to keep up.

We haven't found any tributes, most likely because Glimmer whines a lot, quite loudly, at that matter.

I suppose you could say I'm bound to explode any minute now.

I only have a few tributes I'm really searching for; Thresh, the ginger from District 5, and Katniss.

If I could place money on it, I'd say Katniss is going to be the hardest to catch. And let's admit that it is impressive on how she's probably weaponless, excluding a little knife or something, from District 12, and hasn't died within these days.

We have to be getting close to a tribute, however, because I smell wood burning. Clove's ears perk up at that, and I shake my head disdainfully at her overly eagerness.

Marvel begins to sprint, over the rocks, whooping and yelling with both girls. Peeta kind of lags behind, causing me to roll my eyes in annoyance at his speed.

In the distance, I hear water rippling, which means a tribute is in our range.

I push myself to the lead of the pack, to identify the person.

I guess I would be paying my money to whoever I betted, because there she is.

Katniss jerks her head over to our group, and her eyes widen at the slightest. She pulls herself up on the rocks, and I can't help but to feel sorry for her.

I probably won't make her death long, since I have deemed her a decent opponent.

She runs into the forest, and Clove is laughing, at her attempted escape. I was actually shocked on how fast she was moving.

Once we get a bit into the trees, I look around to see her climbing an oak.

"It's not going to help you up there, Katniss!" Glimmer calls, and I have to disagree with her on that. It's wise thinking, instead of wasting her time and effort on

trying to outrun us.

I still start my climb up the large tree, and Katniss occasionally looks down to see how far away I am.

"I'm coming for you," I manage to spit out.

However, she just stops on a branch, still looking down at me.

I understood why once I fell, and almost cracked my neck.

Glimmer shoots an arrow, only to miss our target by quite a lot of length, as did I.

"Let's just wait her out."

We all turn to Peeta, raising our eyebrows at the first real sentence said by him.

"She's got to come down sometime. Either that, or starve to death. We'll get her then," he adds, and I nod at him.

"Someone start a fire," I command roughly, and turn on my heels.

* * *

I stare up at the tree, at the girl with her leg slung on another branch. She winces every time she moves, and I conclude she must've gotten burnt by the forest fire we were unsure about.

I shake my head slightly, licking my lips. Why is she such a big threat to me? Right now, we have the upper hand, and she can't escape our grasp.

Unlike my allies, I don't hate her. I don't despise her in one shape or form, but I do feel admiration for the girl.

I am a bit distressed at the fact that even when we were sure we'd kill her, she had proven us incorrect. I'm not one to enjoy being shown up, like any respectful guy wouldn't be.

Glimmer giggles at something Marvel says, and I want to rip her throat out because of it. His, too.

_Remind me, why do I sound like a girl on her period? _

Probably one of the two females sitting near me has rubbed off on me.

I find this insulting to my manliness, and decide to change the direction of my thought process. To things, better things that include winning and the aftermath.

I suppose I haven't thought much about what I'll do when I win. Will I spend most of my time in the Capitol, like Finnick Odair? Or will I remain in my peace at

District 2, along with Brutus and Lyme?

The years of endless training has taken a toll on my possible hobbies, dwindling them down to almost none.

When I was around thirteen or fourteen, I played the guitar. It helped take away the pain of my parents' death, because my father taught me the basics.

However, if I were to pick up the instrument now, it'd be a major train wreck.

That's the thing though; I have to have a specific, valid talent besides being strong, quick, and skilled with a sword. I'm far from being 'artistic', and I honestly find guys, who are of such, wimpy.

I feel a migraine coming up, and try to fall asleep.

Sword clutched in my left hand, I doze off into a dreamless state.

...

* * *

_Katniss_

_Haymitch, please send me some kind of medicine, _I plead repeatedly in my head.

This reminds me of the time I was so desperate for food, and was watching Peeta throw the burnt bread towards the pig pen.

Speaking of Peeta, I feel even more furious over his alliance choice.

I don't want to dwell on that for too long, because I have a much more serious matter in my hands.

My life is on the line in this tree, and if I don't escape, I will certainly die of starvation. Or even fire, if the careers are soon to give up, but clever enough to set the tree on fire.

I realize I'm actually thinking of ways I would kill another tribute if I were a career, and actually chuckle a little, in amusement but also of disgust.

The Capitol's done something to me, because I really am becoming the girl on fire for sure now.

No more fake flames.

* * *

**Cato and I both have a migraine, so we're both retiring for the night. I hope you all enjoyed this, since I do try my hardest to make it interesting, even with the overused plot.**

**You see, I have many brilliant ideas for the post-games, and cannot wait to jump into those. However, like most writers do, I have to gradually rise my way up. This process really is excruciating to go through, and I'd rather just abandon the first part of this story (or series) to get to the fun part. Unfortunately, that won't happen. Oh, and should I do 3rd person POV?**

**Ideas please? Constructive criticism? Positive comments? **

**All are welcome, if you have them, except the dreaded bashing and hatred over a work. **

**Love always, **

**-DareToDreamBig**


	4. Chapter 4

_Cato _

The exquisite delicacy of being woken by buzzing insects is the start of my day.

Please note the sarcasm in the last statement, because I am furious. Of course manners don't apply in the arena, and the Capitol doesn't bother limiting themselves on the use of mutations, either.

I feel the unbearable sting of a Tracker Jacker first on my neck, then my shoulder, and a cold sweat rakes itself over my body.

This must be one of the starting signs of hallucination from the little devil's venom.

You may wonder how I know what type of mutation these insects are classified as and the answer is simple. To remind the districts of their power, the Capitol creates many sorts of mutts, as District 2 calls them, which can range from being harmless to deadly.

To my luck, Tracker Jackers happen to be on the ladder side of the status scale.

I hear Glimmer shouting and screaming, begging for mercy. The mockingjays, another mutt, repeat her yells with almost sickening cheerfulness.

I am expecting to hear Clove threatening to rip the birds' vocal cords out, when I remember she's right beside me, heading towards the water source we had come across a day before. Marvel is right on our heels, with cries of panic.

Within what felt like a lifetime but has only been a few minutes, we finally arrive at our destination, resting in all of its slightly muddy, but refreshing glory. I usually wouldn't use such adjectives to describe a place, but I think it makes sense, at the moment.

Turning on my side in a shallow pool of water, I am brought unconscious, as the poison works its way into my bloodstream.

* * *

"Oh Cato, wake up!" An annoying voice chirps as I begin to open my eyes.

Of course it's Clove, because irritating me with words laced with false admiration is her trademark. Heck, irritating me in general is her trademark, registered and all.

"As you assume me to ask, how long have I been out?" I command, throat sore from yelling too often and loudly.

My district partner snorts, and comments on how lazy and disgraceful it is to be unconscious for a total of two long days. This causes me to roll my eyes as I pick myself up off the floor of the clearing, and I stretch my limbs.

I purposefully ignore her as she begins to complain about how she doesn't have any sponsors, bowing at her feet, ready to send a gift when she performs the simple act of extending her body parts.

Those are her words, not mine. I presume they are true, since a lot of the girls in my district fawn over my "drool-worthy eyes and delicious mouth." Not that they'd know, because I keep my lips and everything else away from the makeup coated vultures in the Academy.

Something dawns on me once I've fully started to function. The little Lover Boy is gone.

How could I have been so reckless and foolish to disregard him when I was escaping the Tracker Jackers' wrath?

Yes, I was juggling my life in my hands, but I should've at least paid more attention to him. I bet he and Katniss planned this to try and run off, once their captors were caught off guard. I don't know why, but the idea doesn't settle right with my stomach.

I shake off the possibility of Katniss being in on this, unless if she's an experienced actress. Which I highly doubt, because you can basically read all of the emotions on her face when they're supposed to appear.

"LOVER BOY IS GONE!" I yell, grabbing a knife and throwing it at a tree. As if it was putty in my hands, it expertly sinks itself into the bark.

"WHAT!" Clove screeches out loudly in the distance.

"Do I need to repeat myself? Loverboy, District 12, what's-his-name is gone. We forgot to make sure he was with us when we were attacked." I state in a calmer voice this time. People have told me this voice is scarier than my yelling tone.

"He probably ran off with his little girlfriend." Clove sneers, the deadly look in her eyes growing. She then mutters about how she can't wait until she kills both of the tributes.

For some reason, this causes me to go into my dangerous, possessive predator mode, as my friends like to call it. Katniss is _my kill, my opponent,_ and _only mine._ I voice this to my current ally, and she throws her knife into an innocent lizard in a fit of rage. She almost looks ridiculous, with her small stature but bold, angry personality. I chuckle under my breath and smirk at her, daring her to act in defiance.

Clove clutches her knife tighter in her already firm grip, and gives me a death glare. I'm glad looks can't kill, because if they did, I'd be under the wrath of her and her beloved knives.

_Not that we'd be in that position, because I'm a foot taller than her and more than twice her weight. _

* * *

_Katniss_

No matter how tiny and delicate she is, Rue is a better partner than I could ask for. She can fly from tree to tree like a bird, and is decent with the slingshot she managed to snag. She reminds me so much of Prim that if it came down to the two of us, I would find a way to die and let her win. The girl deserves it, for sure, being such a young age and lasting this long. I know the Games are bad, but why would you even think of putting a naïve child who barely weighs seventy pounds in this arena?

Of course, the "oh-so-glorious-and-hospitable" Capitol doesn't care, because as long as they're all pretty, entertained, and well-fed, then all is right with them. The poor, starving people of the Districts aren't of any of their concern. I'm positive they're placing bets right now, and making fun of me and my ally. It's not too complicated to pin-point their activities, because of their predictable nature. While on the topic of Rue, I hope my Prim is doing okay and isn't hungry. One can only hope, right?

Rue and I have decided we should destroy and eliminate the Careers' supplies, as this is basically the only thing keeping them alive. Sure, they'll have their weapons, but food is much more necessary to their bodies' requirements. And the probability of them knowing how to hunt and gather the correct plants is low, so that is ruled out. The only way they'd be able to get food is if their sponsors send them something, and I highly doubt they know how to smartly measure the rations. That's one of the few positives of living in a lower district.

We learn the correct codes for safety and warning, and then set off. While Rue sets the pile of branches on fire, I'm going to destroy the supplies. However, this is easier said than done.

They piled everything up in the middle of the clearing near the Cornucopia, but something about the set-up isn't right.

I'm extremely suspicious about the piles of dirt where the pedestals used to be, and the new edition to the pack; the District 3 boy.

Maybe he isn't too malnourished like me, but he definitely could use muscle. Cato would be able to snap his arm off in a second, without any effort. This applies to me too, but I'm not part of this little group.

I'm pleased to see that my ally has successfully set the pile aflame. The Careers notice this, and make the unlikely member stay watch. That makes since, now that they don't have Glimmer or Peeta, from the looks of it, to protect their camp.

I see a flash of red, as the girl from Five runs across the area to the supplies. He doesn't even notice!

She begins to perform a very intricate dance, hopping away from the piles of dirt. After grabbing a few small things, she jumps back to the forest the same way as before.

Finally, the clues start to piece together and form the solution to this mystery. District 3's main duty is to control technology. The Careers must've thought he could be use, to protect their supplies and he dug up the mines only to rewire them, making a trap.

To prove my theory, I lift an arrow out of my quiver, and load my bow. Aiming toward the sack of apples at the top, I release. It rips the bag, but doesn't release any fruits from the netting.

I attempt again, and this time, an apple tumbles its way down. It happens all too fast for me to escape.

I fly backwards, into the hard, awaiting ground. My bow is barely in my grasp, and I feel like I've broken every bone in my body. The ringing in one of my ears worries me the most, since I need my ears to hunt. I can't even manage to detect which ear, because the Careers are stomping back out of the woods. I watch Cato snap the guard's neck, and I stagger away.

* * *

_Cato _

She's really done it this time. Katniss Everdeen is going to regret every little stunt she's pulled on us once I get ahold of her.

I'm unstoppable at the moment as I march around, yelling orders at Clove in which she quickly obliges. I don't even know or care where Marvel is, and I barely recognize my hands jerking District 3's neck.

Now, I am beginning to believe that both from District 12 are in the want of a death wish.

Why the year I volunteer, a fiery girl from an outlier did the same?

Why do I deem her a worthy opponent?

She frustrates me to no end, and I can't determine if she intrigues me or if I want to feel and see the life slowly draining out of her tiny body. Most from District 2 would think the latter, but I, for some reason, am unsure. Perhaps it's the air of anger, and revenge. Or, just the games in general.

_Oh Katniss,_ I think, _the Hunger Games are great and all, but I can assure you that my games are much, much worse to play. _

* * *

**Well, we get a glimpse at Cato's feelings for the infamous Girl on Fire. **

**Great, now I sound like most of the Catoniss ship. Fire Girl this, Girl on Fire that. **

**I had to make Cato sound like an arrogant Career in this chapter, because maybe it's just me but he sounds soft in the past. **

**Have a Merry Christmas, but wait for many chapters to be posted within these few days, especially on Christmas Eve. That is, if my mother doesn't find something for me to do. If you don't celebrate Christmas, then I still hope you have a nice December 25****th****. Oh, and please review. Like. Please. I'm. Begging. You. **

**XOXO,**

**DareToDreamBig**


	5. Chapter 5: Until They're Gone

_ My Thoughts Echo Your Name_

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** Chapter 5: Until They're Gone **

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_..._

_Katniss _

This is the second time in my life I'm pleading for Haymitch to send me something. Peeta is just lying here, too decapitated to do much of anything. This proves to be a big problem, since he's now my only ally. I've been numb and unable to think clearly after Rue has died, but a new dedication to win this for her and Prim has taken over my body. I _have _to win this. Now, I know there's nothing that can change my mindset. Prim is my number one priority, and Rue was at the top of the list too. However, the odds most likely aren't in my favor at the time, because it's currently down pouring and we're stuck in a cave.

I've also gotten another name on the list too; Peeta Mellark. Once I heard the announcement that two tributes can come out if they're both from the same district, I called Peeta's name out and rushed towards the lake. Fortunately, his skills in camouflage came in handy, and he was able to disguise himself from any passing adversary. If the Hunger Games were based on camouflage, he'd win out of us all.

An idea crosses my mind. Because of Peeta's confession, we're now specified the "Star-crossed Lovers of District 12." Certainly, the few sponsors we may have are waiting for some action. Perhaps that's why Haymitch hasn't sent me anything yet. He usually does things for a reason, and they're good ones, too. No matter how drunk he was, and sober he wasn't, he seemed to try his best to provide some advice, like get people to like you. Now that I've been through the whole experience of getting prepared and ready for the arena, I have discovered it's better than what most mentors could probably give out. Since Haymitch isn't famous like Finnick Odair in the Capitol, Peeta and I are going to have to do most of the work of getting these Capitolites to send us parachutes. He really needs medicine, but he doesn't want me to go to the feast.

I'm a bit surprised that Peeta hasn't received anything yet, as he is the obvious favored among us. Well, in my eyes he is. I don't really think many people could dislike him, unless if he's your enemy in the arena. For this reason, I can't imagine Cato or Clove admiring and adoring the youngest Mellark like the Capitol does.

I begin to talk to Peeta, taking in deep but silent breaths as I prepare myself to do what I'm about to do. I haven't ever kissed a boy, so I don't exactly have knowledge in what I should do. As I tell the story about Lady, Prim's goat, and Buttercup, I realize that regardless the conditions of being in the arena, I'm not revolted at the idea of kissing Peeta. I actually am kind of glad it's him, someone so kind-hearted and gentle. Someone who I owe.

It's better than Gale, as much as I hate to admit it. Not that I have anything against my best friend and hunting partner, but I'd like to keep us in the friendship zone, and I'm sure he feels the same. At least with Peeta, it isn't too awkward, since he really does like me. Or that's what he tells me, when he launches into the story of how he first knew he liked me when I sang The Valley Song in front of the class during Kindergarten. I'm not the most trusting, so my first reaction is to call that explanation completely bull. He did lie flawlessly about the red-headed Avox, and there's not a reason why he wouldn't lie just as perfectly this time. It's hard to break out of old habits.

However, I don't express these emotions. No eye rolling, or "yeah right." I continue to smile and nod.

What surprises me is that Peeta leans over, even in his physical state, and plants a kiss on my lips. I shock myself and him as I pull him in closer, deepening the kiss. I suppose that's taken care of.

My breath catches when he smiles, which lights up his angular face, creating an angelic effect.

_I could definitely get used to this, _I think.

And eventually, minutes after the lip lock, a silver parachute floats down in our direction. I tug it open, and discover a container of liquid that I soon classify as sleep syrup.

**Nice job, sweetheart. **

**-H **

I sigh out of exasperation, and stuff the little slip of paper in my jacket pocket. Time to feed Peeta.

I'm able to convince him that it is soup, and that I'll eat some later. Oh, and that I won't go to the feast. I've never been a good liar, but maybe he's a bit out of it because of his condition. I spoon some of the liquid into his mouth.

"It's sweet," He says, "like syrup..." His eyes widen, and he tries to spit it out. I'm not having that, so I put my hands over his mouth and force him to consume the medicine. Peeta's expression portrays betrayal, making me feel slightly guilty, until he passes out, all in the matter of seconds. And I find myself praying that he doesn't get any worse within the time I'm gone.

I pull myself out of the cave, and see that the "skies" are clear and no rain is evident on the ground. The Capitol's technology isn't advanced enough to make the arena look real, so that makes me feel a little triumphant. This happens a lot, me finding the Capitol's flaws amusing.

Once I arrive near the Cornucopia, hiding in a bush, I see that no one's decided to grab their pack yet, as all four are sitting on a table.

Then I hear a rustle from the opposite side of the foliage I'm in and out comes Foxface, as I've decided to call her, who swiftly dashes and yanks her bag on her back.

She's so quick and clever no other tribute has managed to catch her. If it came down to it, though, she'd lose in hand-to-hand combat, or if her adversary had a weapon.

Hopefully, this strategy will work with me, and if not, I have my bow and arrows. I launch from my hiding place and run towards my destination. My hearts starts to race when I hear footsteps, and I turn around just in time to see Clove flying towards me and tackling me to the rich soil. I start to jerk and struggle, but she catches my legs with her knees, and has my arms locked behind my back.

"Where's Loverboy?" She taunts. Holding her knife close to my face, she adds, "Is he coming to help you?" I take this as a rhetorical question, and am proven correct when she continues.

"Too bad we killed your ally. What was her name, Rue? Now, we're going to kill you too." She tells me in an almost sickening sweet voice, one that causes shivers to run up my spine. Her comment about Rue makes me spit in her face, and she glares. "Going to start with the mouth." Clove mutters to herself, and for the first time in a while, I find myself very, very frightened.

Sure, I've been in similar situations, but this girl seems to be a little mentally crazy. Like at least Cato stabs his victim and moves on, but she seems to relish playing with her prey before she kills it.

However, I feel a weigh lifted off my chest, and I hear yelling.

Turning towards the direction of my savior, I see Thresh, from District 11.

"YOU KILLED THE GIRL?!" He shouts, pushing Clove up against the silver metal.

"NO, I JUST..." She attempts to reason, but this appears to make him even angrier.

"YOU KILLED HER, I HEARD YOU!" And with that, he bashes her head with a rock.

I feel no resentment of Thresh, as we both share the same sentiment. Kill anybody who was involved with the death of Rue. In fact, I kind of admire him for that. Not leaving without giving Clove the proper vengeance.

He moves his body in an angle, to face me, and points at me.

"Just this time, Twelve, for Rue."

I crash through the woods, with a gain of respect for Thresh. However, I'm feeling the effects of blood loss, since my enemy was able to cut a deep gash in my forehead.

I reach our cave with dizziness, and I tip over. My eyes close.

_Is this what it feels like to die? _

_..._

* * *

_..._

_Cato _

I'm basically a robot now. Eat, drink, search for the remaining tributes, and try not to think or dwell on Clove.

To be honest, this is easier said than done. Sure, Clove and I weren't the best of friends, but she was from home.

I suppose you never know what or who you have until they're gone.

That being said, this doesn't apply to my parents, because I appreciated every little moment I spent with them. I recall my father telling me that if I absolutely feel the need to be in the Games, and win, I should avenge the Capitol for all the pain caused. I almost scoffed, but thought about it.

Shouldn't we live in a country where all life is valued equally?

To get these rebellious thoughts out of my head, I think about Thresh and how I'll kill him. Oh yes, I will use my favorite sword, and cut him across the face, then stab his heart in the finale.

I have a feeling it's going to end up with me, and either Katniss or District 5.

Somehow, I believe Peeta will dwindle out from poison or Katniss' arrows.

With any luck, the latter.

It makes me chuckle, the thought of Katniss, Peeta's one and only true love, releasing the arrow that ends his life.

Katniss would lose all of the support she had, unless if it was to pull him out of pain. I don't think she had the heart to let him die a painful death, though, but people aren't always what you expect.

_..._

* * *

_..._

**Do you like the new set-up? By the way, I'm thinking of writing a Finnick/Katniss story, because they're my second OTP. I can't wait until Christmas, and tomorrow's Christmas Eve. **

**Yours Truly,**

**-DareToDreamBig**

___..._


	6. Chapter 6: Never Owed A Thing

_My Thoughts Echo Your Name_

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**Chapter 6: Never Owed A Thing**

* * *

_..._

_Cato _

It isn't long before I find Thresh.

He's sitting in a field, staring off into space. _Too easy._

I know I'm wrong when he does a complete once over of the area, and I have to duck so he doesn't spot me. This guy's almost as muscular as me, and I consider him my biggest threat.

As soon as he relaxes a little, I creep toward him, making sure to control my usual stomping. I have confidence I can quickly stab him in the heart, but I want to drag out this kill a bit.

Unfortunately for me, Thresh wasn't having that.

He brings up his axe when he sees me coming near. I draw my sword, and prepare for the battle. In the distance, I hear a cannon, but nothing can draw my attention away. Nothing will, either, since I need complete focus.

My enemy is the first to move, and I wasn't expecting that. He manages to swipe a cut across my face.

_Worst cut I've ever receive, _I think. The injury stings and blood begins to pour out of the wound. I'm able to cut him in the arm with my weapon of choice.

Then, it's on. He comes barreling at me, and to my luck, I'm prepared. We start to hack away at the other, each of us getting in a few good hits. I can imagine the Capitol, laughing when one of us messes up and cheering when their favorite is in the lead.

Somehow, even with all of the blood, I stab a fatal area. The familiar cannon booms and I nod my head at Thresh's corpse, in a sign of respect for a decent opponent, District 2's signature.

I feel like I'm about to faint, the blood covering the grass, a puddle where he lays.

_Time to get ready for the end, _I command myself.

The Gamemakers' seem to have a different idea, though, because I hear growling.

Out comes a huge wolf-like creature, baring its fangs and ready to attack.

_..._

* * *

_..._

_Katniss_

Peeta's upset at me for abandoning him, but eventually, within a few minutes, forgives me. I couldn't ever let things go, instead holding grudges. This is displayed by the relationship with my mother.

I decide to go hunting, and Peeta says he'll gather some nuts and berries, as we are running low in food supplies.

Cato, Thresh, or Foxface haven't died yet, since no cannon has boomed.

This leaves us slightly at a stalemate, since we don't know where they could be located. I'm a bit afraid to find out. There is a reason why they've survived this long.

I find myself enjoying my old hobby, but not as much as I do when I'm safe in District 12. Of course, I am fighting to the death in the Hunger Games.

I kill a squirrel and two unknown birds; groosling, perhaps?

A boom makes me jolt. A feeling of dread rushes through my body and my heart races.

"PEETA?" I yell frantically, rushing towards the direction where he's supposed to be.

"PEETA?"

I repeat this, until I hear him shout my name, and I change my path to match where the voice was coming from.

He comes in sight, and I launch myself at him, to embrace him, make sure he's okay.

He rubs my back soothingly, and I break away.

"I thought you were dead." I say breathlessly.

He shakes his head, and I follow him when he begins to walk.

There, curled in a ball, pale as a ghost, is Foxface. One of her hands is outstretched, holding some kind of berry. _Poison. _

I look over at Peeta, who lets out a strangled cry, and his lips form a small "o" shape.

"Those berries were poisonous? I was about to eat them." Peeta states with relief, then sadness.

"Never eat anything you're unsure about in the arena without acceptance from me." I tell him, and reach over in the bush I've specified as Nightlock, grabbing a handful of berries. Peeta gives me a questioning look, so I explain. "Think maybe Cato will like Nightlock?"

He nods in agreement, and we start to gather our bags after eating a quick meal of roasted groosling and squirrel.

_Time to find Cato. _

* * *

Turns out, we didn't find Cato, but he found us. I was expecting him to attempt to stab us with his infamous sword, but he just breezes past us.

We were soon welcomed by the sight of the ugliest creatures known to mankind. Well, at least in my opinion they are.

Some emerge up from the ground; some seem to fall right out of the sky. No matter what angle they come from, they're intimidating and as I pick up my trek into a run, I can't help but be afraid. I urge Peeta to run faster, in which he attempts to oblige.

I know it's the end of my time when I feel a force push against me atop the Cornucopia. I suppose that in all of the commotion, we forgot about Cato.

Not the smartest of things to do.

Swatting at him with my bow doesn't help much, except his growing irritability.

He growls at me as I do so, and I duck just before my neck gets sliced.

Even in the night, you can clearly see that what used to be handsome face is now torn up, blood dripping onto his jacket. The only feature that reveals his identity is the glacier-blue eyes.

Cato's hands find my neck and I begin to thrash, my hair getting snipped at by the mutts. I can't do much except hope that Peeta recognizes my absence and is honorable enough to help.

He doesn't owe me anything, so I've excepted my fate until I feel fresh air enter my pleading lungs, and I take in a deep breath.

I continue to gasp as I stumble my way up, and string my bow with an arrow.

To my disappointment, it finds itself pointing at both Cato and Peeta, who is in a similar predicament to the one I inhabited earlier.

...

* * *

**I think we all know what happens next. **

**Unfortunately, I can't create much of a plot twist in the next chapter, since this story is Catoniss centered. **

**I wish you all a belated Happy New Years, and I hope you all have a fantastic year. Make it the best it can ever be. **

**Yours Truly, **

**-DareToDreamBig**


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